Make Me Over
by StraddlingTheAtmosphere
Summary: Part 1 of the Sammy the Makeover Queen 'verse. Sam's in charge of getting Cas ready for an undercover hunt with Dean at a gay bar. Unneccessary help and distraction arrive in the form of a certain Archangel-turned-Trickster. Sam/Gabriel. Dean/Castiel


Title: Make Me Over  
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel, unestablished Castiel/Dean  
Rating: T for language and some sensuality  
Disclaimer: Don't own, more's the pity.  
Summary: Sam's in charge of making Castiel over for he and Dean's undercover hunt at a gay bar. A little help is needed from a certain archangel.  
NOTICE: PREQUEL TO _PRETTY PAIR._

* * *

Castiel stands alone, fiddling a little with his jacket outside the bar, counting down the minutes until he could go in. A flutter of wings makes him jerk his head up, untamed hair flopping in front of his eyes.

"Cas, c'mere!" A voice hisses, loud in the surprising quiet of the bar.

"Sam? What are you—how did you get here?" Castiel tilts his head as he slowly steps toward Samuel Winchester, brother of Dean Winchester. The tall hunter fidgets, a slow flush staining his cheeks.

"Um…" And then he catches a whiff of that sweet candy smell mixed with a hint of peppermint that had always belonged to just one being.

"Gabriel," Castiel raises an eyebrow mildly. Sam stutters and goes beet red, hands flailing.

"It's alright, Sam. Just…remember this is Gabriel." Sam ducks his head and mutters what would have been unintelligible words if Castiel hadn't had exceedingly good hearing.

"I know, I know. It's just…well…I don't seem to be having any luck with _girls_, so I mean…"

"Gabriel is neither male nor female."

"Dude, Cas, he's in a guy body. That's guy enough. It's like…I wouldn't be able to take you seriously if you suddenly went all angel mojo and showed up in a girl vessel. I'm used to you as a guy. It's the same thing."

"But you _would _take me seriously," and there's a hint of an dangerous edge in his voice, a cunning, alien side that rarely makes an appearance but is all the more terrifying for when it does.

Sam swallows, "Yeah, of course! But that's not the point." He pauses, as if trying to find the right words to say. "Can we talk about this another time?" Castiel nods seriously.

_9 minutes, 43 seconds, 8 milliseconds…_

"Cas! You in there?" The angel blinks as if coming out of a trance and frowns.

"Yes, of course I am in this vessel, Sam." Sam grins, wide and easy.

"But did you hear anything I said?" Castiel has the decency to look slightly sheepish and the tall man laughs.

"Of course not. Just come here," he says fondly, and the blue-eyed being notes the lightness of Sam's soul reaching heights he didn't know it had.

"Welcome to my salon," he says with a flourish of his hands.

Castiel stares. "This is the back of a truck, Samuel." Sam rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

"Just put these on." The angel looks at the clothing in surprise.

"I was unaware I would be changing clothing."

"Dude, you can't go into a bar looking like that. You'll look like someone who's had a bad day at work. That's not exactly what we're going for." Castiel sighs and examines the shirt and pair of jeans in his arms. He glances up at Sam's slightly amused sound.

"Hey, go change. You do know how to change clothes, right?" Sam asks, concern coloring his tone. The angel feels his face pull into what-must-be-a-disgruntled expression, and doesn't bother answering, simply taking off the jacket and suit and slipping on the new cloth.

Slowly, he steps back into the harsh light of the lamppost, peering at Sam while rolling his shoulders experimentally. Sam raises his eyebrows and whistles low.

"Damn, Cas, didn't know you had it in you. This is gonna work perfectly."

Castiel eyes the grin the younger Winchester is sporting and feels the beginnings of a faint stirring of suspicion.

"What is?" He asks guardedly.

"The plan," the man says with that same smile on his face. Then his face changes, smile dropping, and he pours some sort of gooey liquid on his hand in a generous squirt. He beckons with his clean hand, and, after a moment, Castiel steps closer. When he tries to bring his hands to the angel's hair, he stops him with a look, a quick fire of alien cerulean eyes.

"What is that?" He asks, voice like gravel. Sam smiles a little uneasily and holds out his hands for inspection.

"It's just gel, Cas. It's for your hair." Castiel wrinkles his nose and tilts his head in a gesture that Sam emphatically does not think is cute.

"Why?"

"Just trust me, Cas," the young man says quietly, and when the blue-eyed gaze of the angel meets his, the statement seems a lot heavier than it was a minute ago. After being under the uncomfortable intensity of Castiel's gaze, the angel finally moves his focus and nods. Sam sags, a soft sigh of relief, and the moment passes as quickly as it came.

Clearing his throat, Sam rubs his hands together quickly and expertly and slips his palms into the angel's dark locks, massaging and twisting the strands into place. A flop of his own brown hair flips into his face, and his pink tongue pokes out as he narrows his eyes in concentration. A breath tickles the back of his neck and he shivers, the scent of lollipops and mints wafting in the air, the sound of manic laughter close behind.

Castiel's eyes close when Sam starts his ministrations on his hair, and he finds himself enjoying it more than he thought he would. As he feels himself being pulled deeper into a relaxed state, Sam's big hands transform into Dean's smaller, more calloused ones, expert fingers running silkily through his dark hair. A curl of heat coils sharply in his lower gut and it takes more effort than usual to stop a small moan from escaping his mouth. He imagines one of Dean's hands trailing from his hair down his face, green eyes blown black as he takes Castiel's chin and pulls him closer, mouths mere centimeters from each other's. His other hand is still rubbing soothing circles on his scalp, and the angel's slender fingers curl onto Dean's jacket as their lips slowly move closer…

"Cas? Cas!" Castiel blinks, eyes huge and dark under the glare of the lamppost. He sees his hands gripping Sam's shirt so hard his knuckles are white and abruptly let's go, taking a small step back, fingers shaking, mouth letting out an explosive breath.

"You okay?" He doesn't have to look up to hear the concern in Sam's voice.

"Fine," he says shortly, aware of how his body is trembling in nervous anticipation, and the tight coil in his stomach is hotter and throbbing. Castiel swallows.

Sam appraises the angel in front of him slowly and sighs.

"Alright then, I guess you're done."

_No._

_What do you want, Gabe? _Sam thinks irritably. Of all the times for the archangel to pester him…

_You're not done, Sam. I thought you said you'd done this thing before!_

_I have!_

The archangel scoffs, _Right._

_I have! _

_Okay, Sammy, you don't have to defend your masculinity to me, _comes the amused thought of Gabe, and Sam blushes fiercely.

_Shut up._

"What's that, Sammy?" He hears the sharp intake of breath, and he himself jumps too and shoots a glare at the now-present archangel.

"Asshole." Gabriel grins, hazel eyes gleaming.

"Gabriel."

"Hey there, little bro." Gabriel pops the lollipop from his mouth and casually looks him over. He smirks appreciatively.

"You actually do look pretty good."

_HA. _

"Yeah, he was one of the easiest makeovers I've ever done." Castiel tilts his head and stares at him thoughtfully.

"So you have done this before?" Sam curls his fist, blushes a deep pink, and nods.

A ghost of a smile flits across the black-haired man's face. "I'm sure Dean would love to hear about that." Sam's face jerks up, brown eyes gigantic and terrified.

"_No, _Cas, _don't—"_

Gabriel's peels of mirth interrupt him. "Please tell him, _please _little bro. _Do it._" Sam's shaking his head emphatically _no_, and all Castiel does is stand there and not-smile.

Damn that feathery bastard.

Suddenly, Gabriel stops laughing and takes a hard look at his little brother, grabbing his chin to gaze up at him. He hums thoughtfully.

"Here, take some of this." He hands Castiel a tube of chapstick while smirking at a pouting Sam who doesn't look very happy at the veiled accusation of his makeover prowess.

"Is poor little _Samantha _feeling okay, now that her makeover was improved by someone else?" Sam bitchfaces at him.

"Sam, Gabriel…what is this?" The two men turn to look at their handiwork, and said piece of handiwork eyes the tube in his hand like it's going to bite him.

Gabriel laughs, "Relax, Cassie-face, it's not going to eat you. It's for your mouth to make your lips soft. Just take off the cap and put it on your lips." They both see the moment when Castiel gets it, a light of understanding softening his harsh stance.

They watch as he applies and licks his lip contemplatively.

"It tastes…_good_," the angel says, voice reverent.

"It's vanilla." Sam shoots the archangel a look, surprised at the non-candiness of that flavor, and he shrugs as if to say _What can I say? I know my brother._

"Can I keep it?" Castiel asks, voice eager and eyes bright. Sam cracks a grin while Gabriel laughs softly and nods. The look of childlike delight on Cas' face is enough to make all of them glow, warm and happy, but Gabriel's turns into something filthy as he quietly sidesteps behind Sam, lithe fingers trailing up and down his back discreetly, settling on kneading his ass. Sam barely manages to keep in a yelp that instead comes out as some strangled thing that Castiel looks up at curiously.

"Are you alright, Sam?"

"Y-yeah, 'm _fine_," Sam hisses as those fingers turn into just one tongue, lathing at the skin showing between his pants and his shirt. The hunter gulps, trying to squirm away before Castiel notices anything, but suddenly Sam realizes something and looks at his watch.

"Christ, Cas, you've gotta go. Like _now. _In order for the plan to work. And the plan is very important." Sam nods enthusiastically, suddenly remembering—God knows _how _with the devil of an archangel behind him doing very _dirty _things—why he agreed to make Cas over in the first place.

_Real subtle, Sam._

The happiness is wiped off the angel's face as a new one of growing horror and apprehension appears.

"I-I…I don't know what to do."

Sam sighs and groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Castiel, if you don't go in there _right this second_, I'm going to sic Gabe on you."

"Woof-woof," Gabriel growls from behind Sam, poking his head out under his sasquatch's arm.

"I—"

"_Cas," _both Sam and Gabriel snarl out. The angel swallows, throat working for a second, before nodding and taking brisk steps to the entrance of the club.

_0 minutes, 8 seconds, 5 milliseconds..._

Before entering, he turns to look back.

"If you two wanted a bit of privacy, all you had to do was ask. Politely." And then he turns, opens the door, and walks in, the glowing lights and sounds drowning him away. Sam gapes at him.

Sneaky little bastard.

Moaning in relief, Sam twists in the archangel's grip and looks down at him, scowling.

Gabriel smirks, voice sickly sweet and smooth, "You know, I'd much rather you be _my _bitch than the other way around…"

Sam raises an eyebrow. "I'm not the one who's sexually ambiguous."


End file.
